Bedtime Tale: Pollyanna Ch 15

Pollyanna by Eleanor H.

Porter Chapter 15 Dr.

Chilton The great grey pile of masonry looked very different to Pollyanna when she made her second visit to the house of Mr.

John Pendleton.

Windows were open,

An elderly woman was hanging out clothes in the backyard,

And the doctor's gig stood under the pork couture.

As before,

Pollyanna went to the side door.

This time she rang the bell.

Her fingers were not stiff today from a tight clutch on a bunch of keys.

A familiar-looking small dog bounded up the steps to greet her,

But there was a slight delay before the woman,

Who had been hanging out the clothes,

Opened the door.

If you please,

I've brought some calf's foot jelly for Mr.

Pendleton,

Smiled Pollyanna.

Thank you,

Said the woman,

Reaching for the bowl in the little girl's hands.

Who shall I say sent it?

And it's calf's foot jelly?

The doctor,

Coming into the hall at that moment,

Heard the woman's words and saw the disappointed look on Pollyanna's face.

He stepped quickly forward.

Ah,

Some calf's foot jelly?

He asked genially.

That will be fine.

Maybe you'd like to see our patient,

Eh?

Oh,

Yes,

Sir,

Beamed Pollyanna,

And the woman,

In obedience to a nod from the doctor,

Led the way down the hall at once,

Though plainly,

With vast surprise on her face.

Behind the doctor,

A young man,

A trained nurse from the nearest city,

Gave a disturbed exclamation.

But,

Doctor,

Didn't Mr.

Pendleton give orders not to admit anyone?

Oh,

Yes,

Nodded the doctor.

But I'm giving orders today.

I'll take the risk.

Then he added whimsically,

You don't know,

Of course,

But that little girl is better than a six-quart bottle of tonic any day.

If anything or anybody can take the grouch out of Pendleton this afternoon,

She can.

That's why I sent her in.

Who is she?

For one brief moment,

The doctor hesitated.

That's the niece of one of our best-known residents.

Her name is Pollyanna Whittier.

I.

.

.

I don't happen to enjoy a very extensive personal acquaintance with the little lady as yet,

But lots of my patients do,

I'm thankful to say.

The nurse smiled.

Indeed,

And what are the special ingredients of this wonder-working tonic of hers?

The doctor shook his head.

I don't know.

As near as I can find out,

It's an overwhelming,

Unquenchable gladness for everything that has happened or is going to happen.

At any rate,

Her quaint speeches are constantly being repeated to me,

And as near as I can make out,

Just being glad is the tenor of most of them.

All is,

He added with another whimsical smile as he stepped out onto the porch.

I wish I could prescribe her and buy her as I would a box of pills.

Though,

If there gets to be many of her in the world,

You and I might as well go to ribbon selling and ditch digging for all the money we'd get out of nursing and doctoring.

He laughed,

Picking up the reins and stepping into the gig.

Pollyanna,

Meanwhile,

In accordance with the doctor's orders,

Was being escorted to John Pendleton's rooms.

Her way led through the great library at the end of the hall,

And rapid as her progress through it,

Pollyanna saw at once that great changes had taken place.

The book-line walls and the crimson curtains were the same,

But there was no litter on the floor,

No untidiness on the desk,

And not so much as a grain of dust in sight.

The telephone card hung in its proper place,

And the brass and the irons had been polished.

One of the mysterious doors was open,

And it was toward this that the maid led the way.

A moment later,

Pollyanna found herself in a sumptuously furnished bedroom while the maid was saying in a frightened voice,

If you please,

Sir,

Here's a little girl with some jelly.

The doctor said I was to.

.

.

To bring her in.

The next moment,

Pollyanna found herself alone with a very cross-looking man lying flat on his back in bed.

See here,

Didn't I say?

Began an angry voice.

Oh,

It's you!

It broke off not very graciously as Pollyanna advanced toward the bed.

Yes,

Sir,

Smiled Pollyanna.

Oh,

I'm so glad they let me in.

You see,

At first the lady most took my jelly,

And I was so afraid I wasn't going to get to see you at all.

Then the doctor came,

And he said I might.

Wasn't he lovely to let me see you?

In spite of himself,

The man's lips twitched into a smile,

But all he said was,

Hmph!

And I've brought you some jelly,

Resumed Pollyanna.

Calf's foot.

I hope you like it.

There was a rising inflection in her voice.

Never ate it.

The fleeting smile had gone,

And the scowl had come back to the man's face.

For a brief instant,

Pollyanna's countenance showed disappointment.

But it cleared,

As she set the bowl of jelly down.

Didn't you?

Well,

If you didn't,

Then you can't know that you don't like it,

Anyhow,

Can you?

So I reckon I'm glad you haven't,

After all.

Now,

If you knew.

.

.

Yes,

Yes,

Well,

There's one thing I know all right,

And that is I'm flat on my back right here this minute,

And that I'm liable to stay here till doomsday,

I guess.

Pollyanna looked shocked.

Oh,

No,

It couldn't be till doomsday,

You know,

When the angel Gabriel blows his trumpet,

Unless it should come quite quicker than we think it will.

Oh,

Of course,

I know the Bible says it may come quicker than we think,

But I don't think it will.

That is,

Of course,

I believe the Bible,

But I mean,

I don't think it will come as quicker as it would come if.

.

.

And.

.

.

John Pendleton laughed suddenly and aloud.

The nurse coming in at that moment heard the laugh and beat a hurried but a very silent retreat.

He had the air of a frightened cook who,

Seeing the danger of a breath of cold air striking a half-done cake,

Hastily shut the oven door.

Aren't you getting a little mixed?

Asked John Pendleton of Pollyanna.

The little girl laughed.

Maybe,

But what I mean is that legs don't last,

Broken ones,

You know,

Like lifelong invalids,

Same as Miss Snow has got,

So yours won't last till doomsday,

Is all.

I should think you'd be glad of that.

Oh,

I am,

Retorted the man grimly.

And you didn't break but one.

You can be glad twasn't too.

Pollyanna was warming to her task.

Of course.

So fortunate,

Sniffed the man with uplifted eyebrows.

Looking at it from that standpoint,

I guess,

I might as well be glad I wasn't a centipede and didn't break fifty.

Pollyanna chuckled.

Oh,

That's the best yet,

She crowed.

I know what a centipede is.

They've got lots of legs,

And you can be glad.

Oh,

Of course,

Interrupted the man sharply,

All the old bitterness coming back to his voice.

I can be glad,

Too,

For all the rest,

I suppose,

The nurse and the doctor and that confounded woman in the kitchen.

Why,

Yes,

Sir.

Only think how bad it would have been if you didn't have them.

Well,

I—he demanded sharply.

Why,

I say,

Only think of how bad it would have been if you didn't have them,

And you're lying here like this.

As if that wasn't the very thing that was at the bottom of the whole matter,

Retorted the man testily,

Because I am lying here like this,

And yet you expect me to say I'm glad because of a full woman who disarranges the whole house and calls it regulating,

And a man who aids and abets her in it and calls it nursing,

To say nothing of the doctor who eggs them both on,

And the whole bunch of them meanwhile expecting me to pay them for it,

And pay them well,

Too.

Pollyanna frowned sympathetically.

Yes,

I know.

That part is too bad.

About the money.

When you've been saving it,

Too,

All this time.

When what?

Saving it.

Buying beans and fish balls,

You know.

Say,

Do you like beans,

Or do you like turkey better?

Only on account of the sixty cents.

Look here,

Child,

What are you talking about?

Pollyanna smiled radiantly.

About your money,

You know.

Denying yourself,

And saving it for the heathen.

You see,

I found out about it.

Why,

Mr.

Pendleton,

That's one of the ways I knew you weren't cross inside.

Nancy told me.

The man's jaw dropped.

Nancy told you I was saving money for the.

.

.

Well,

May I inquire who Nancy is?

Our Nancy.

She works for Aunt Polly.

Aunt Polly?

Well,

Who is Aunt Polly?

She's Miss Polly Harrington.

I live with her.

The man made a sudden movement.

Miss Polly Harrington,

He breathed.

You live with her?

Yes,

I'm her niece.

She's taken me to bring up,

On account of my mother,

You know.

Faltering Pollyanna in a low voice.

She was her sister,

And after father went to be with her,

And the rest of us in heaven,

There wasn't anyone left for me down here but the lady's aid.

So she took me.

The man did not answer.

His face,

As he lay back on the pillow now,

Was very white,

So white that Pollyanna was frightened.

She rose uncertainly to her feet.

I reckon maybe I'd better go now,

She proposed.

I.

.

.

I hope you like the jelly.

The man turned his head suddenly and opened his eyes.

There was a curious longing in the dark depths,

Which even Pollyanna saw,

And at which she marveled.

And so you are Miss Polly Harrington's niece,

He said gently.

Yes,

Sir.

Still the man's dark eyes lingered on her face,

Until Pollyanna,

Feeling vaguely restless,

Murmured,

I suppose you know her?

John Pendleton's lips curved in an odd smile.

Oh yes,

I know her.

He hesitated,

Then went on still with that curious smile.

But you don't mean.

.

.

You can't mean that it was Miss Polly Harrington who sent that jelly to me,

He said slowly.

Pollyanna looked distressed.

No,

Sir,

She didn't.

She said I must be very sure not to let you think she did send it.

But I.

.

.

I thought as much,

Said the man,

Shortly turning away his head.

And Pollyanna,

Still more distressed,

Tiptoed from the room.

Under the portcouchere she found the doctor waiting in his gig.

The nurse stood on the steps.

Well,

Miss Pollyanna,

May I have the pleasure of seeing you home?

Asked the doctor smilingly.

I started to drive on a few minutes ago,

Then it occurred to me that I'd wait for you.

Thank you,

Sir,

I'm glad you did.

I just love to ride,

Beamed Pollyanna,

As she reached out his hand to help her in.

Do you,

Smiled the doctor,

Nodding his head in farewell to the young man on the steps.

Well,

As near as I can judge,

There are a good many things that you love to do,

Eh?

He added,

As they drove briskly away.

Pollyanna laughed.

Well,

I don't know.

I reckon perhaps there are,

She admitted.

I like to do most everything that's living.

Of course,

I don't like the other things very well.

Sewing and reading aloud and all that.

But they aren't living.

No?

What are they then?

Aunt Polly says they're learning to live,

Sighed Pollyanna with a rueful smile.

The doctor smiled now,

A little queerly.

Does she?

Well,

I should think she might say just that.

Yes,

Responded Pollyanna,

But I don't see it that way at all.

I don't think you have to learn how to live.

I didn't,

Anyhow.

The doctor drew a long sigh.

After all,

I'm afraid some of us do have to,

Little girl,

He said.

Then,

For a time,

He was silent.

Pollyanna,

Stealing a glance at his face,

Felt vaguely sorry for him.

He looked so sad.

She wished uneasily that she could do something.

It was this,

Perhaps,

That caused her to say in a timid voice,

Dr.

Chilton,

I should think being a doctor would be the very gladdest kind of business there was.

The doctor turned in surprise.

Gladdest?

When I see so much suffering always,

Everywhere I go,

He cried.

She nodded.

I know,

But you're helping it,

Don't you see?

And of course you're glad to help it,

And so that makes you the gladdest of any of us,

All the time.

The doctor's eyes filled with sudden,

Hot tears.

The doctor's life was a singularly lonely one.

He had no wife and no home save his two-room office in a boarding house.

His profession was very dear to him.

Looking now into Pollyanna's shining eyes,

He felt as if a loving hand had been suddenly laid on his head in blessing.

He knew,

Too,

That never again would a long day's work or a long night's weariness be quite without that newfound exaltation that had come to him through Pollyanna's eyes.

God bless you,

Little girl,

He said unsteadily.

Then,

With the bright smile his patients knew and loved so well,

He added,

And I'm thinking,

After all,

That it was the doctor,

Quite as much as his patients,

That needed a draft of that tonic.

All of which puzzled Pollyanna very much,

Until a chipmunk running across the road drove the whole matter from her mind.

The doctor left Pollyanna at her own door,

Smiled at Nancy,

Who was sweeping off the front porch,

Then drove rapidly away.

I've had a perfectly beautiful ride with the doctor,

Announced Pollyanna,

Bounding up the steps.

He's lovely,

Nancy.

Is he?

Yes,

And I told him I should think his business would be the very gladdest one there was.

What,

Going to see sick folks and folks that ain't sick but think they are,

Which is even worse?

Nancy's face showed open skepticism.

Pollyanna laughed gleefully.

Yes,

That's most what he said,

Too.

But there is a way to be glad even then.

Guess.

Nancy frowned in meditation.

Nancy was getting so she could play the game of being glad quite successfully,

She thought.

She rather enjoyed studying out Pollyanna's posers,

Too,

As she called some of the little girls' questions.

Oh,

I know,

She chuckled.

It's just the opposite from what you told Miss Snow.

Opposite,

Repeated Pollyanna,

Obviously puzzled.

Yes,

You told her she could be glad because other folks wasn't like her.

All sick,

You know.

Yes,

Said Pollyanna.

Well,

The doctor can be glad because he isn't like other folks.

The sick ones,

I mean.

Whatty doctors,

Finished Nancy in triumph.

It was Pollyanna's turn to frown.

Why,

Yes,

She admitted.

Of course,

That is one way,

But it isn't the way I said.

And some way,

It don't seem quite like the sound of it.

It isn't exactly as if he was glad they were sick,

But you do play the game so funny sometimes,

Nancy.

She sighed,

And she went into the house.

Pollyanna found her aunt in the sitting room.

Who was that man?

The one who drove into the yard,

Pollyanna,

Questioned the lady a little sharply.

Why,

Aunt Polly,

That was Dr.

Chilton.

Don't you know him?

Dr.

Chilton?

What was he doing here?

He drove me home.

Oh,

And I gave the jelly to Mr.

Pendleton,

And Miss Polly lifted her head quickly.

Pollyanna?

He did not think I sent it.

Oh no,

Aunt Polly,

I told him you didn't.

Miss Polly grew very pink.

You told him I didn't?

Pollyanna opened wide her eyes at the dismay in her aunt's voice.

Why,

Aunt Polly,

You said to.

Aunt Polly sighed.

I said,

Pollyanna,

That I did not send it,

And for you to be very sure that he did not think I did,

Which is a very different matter from telling him outright that I did not send it,

And she turned vexedly away.

Dear me,

I don't see what the difference is,

Sighed Pollyanna,

As she went to hang her hat on the one particular hook in the house upon which Pollyanna had said it must be hung.

And that is the end of our story this evening.

Until next time,

Sweet dreams.